


One Shot at Love

by Shippingtheswann



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-11-23 01:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20884274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shippingtheswann/pseuds/Shippingtheswann
Summary: Collection of my One Shots about Captain Swan





	1. Answering the Call

**Author's Note:**

> A/N – this is my first ever One Shot. It is based off the prompt found on Bleebug’s Tumblr – Best friend CS AU where Emma butt-dials Killian when confiding in her friend(s) about her feelings for him, and he just sits there listening, confused and ecstatic and feeling like a jackass for eavesdropping, but mostly just relieved that his love isn’t unrequited like he’s believed for years. My story takes a little bit of a different route, but still has it all.

His night wasn’t ending on a good note. There was no way after the day he had. He spent the last twelve hours preparing a presentation, and all he had to show for it was a slide that had his name and his professional information _Killian Jones, COO, Jones INC_. He was no where close to being ready for the conference next week. Normally, his brother Liam would be the one making the presentation. But, this time, Liam forced Killian to take on the job to impress potential investors and companies. He hated it. Public speaking wasn’t his strong suit – and neither was coming up with a way to make his company look good.

On top of that, he missed his weekly hang out with his friends. It had been a tradition that he looked forward to every week.

They would choose a new bar each week; trading off who was the designated driver (or the person who paid for the Uber) and who got to choose the location that week. You would think that after more than 5 years of weekly meetings, they would have run out of places to find – but each week, there was somewhere new within the hour drive of their universe.

Sure, Killian could normally tell what kind of bars he would be going to each week, simply based off his friend’s personalities – but he still enjoyed trying out new things. He especially enjoyed the company.

The past few weeks of bars had been an adventure to say the least. Mary Margaret and David had taken them to an 80’s themed pop up bar that had been opened and closed in quick succession. Ruby had decided on a biker bar out in the middle of nowhere that claimed to have the best moonshine. Regina took them up to Canada for her turn, opting for a special wine tasting at a place that looked like a castle. Trying to get 7 drunk Americans back into the country turned out to be easier than he expected. Graham had chosen another traditional sports bar.

Killian had been looking forward to this week. It was Emma’s turn.

Even though she wasn’t standing in front of him, his heart still skipped a beat when the thought of her.

Emma Swan was everything that Killian wanted but couldn’t have. She was untouchable. Not only was she too perfect for him – with her blonde hair and green eyes that brought just about every man she knew to his knees – but she had a dark sense of humor that Killian couldn’t get enough of. She was sarcastic half the time. She was the perfect drinking partner – never getting drunk enough to black out but keeping the pace with the men and showing them that she was just as much of a bad ass as they were. She was strong, yet gentle; loving but protected. She was perfect.

Ever since that night they met, Killian had been drawn to her; wanting to be around her every chance he got.

But, she was off limits. She was David’s adopted sister. She had been hurt in the past. She had walls sky high – and while Killian still worked on cracking those walls, he knew that nothing would ever come of it. David warned him the first night they met back in Freshman year. After another stupid frat party where Killian put on his best dashing rapscallion persona, David cornered him and told him to not mess with Emma.

They had grown up a lot in the last few years, but Killian knew it wasn’t enough to make Emma his, no matter how much he prayed for it to happen. And he knew that David wasn’t Emma’s keeper, that she could make her own decisions; but he respected David too much to cause any friction.

It was also worth remembering that Emma hadn’t once returned his affection.

As Killian walked through his apartment, in search of some much-needed aspirin, he remembered the last time that he brazenly flirted with Emma.

It was during their trip into Canada with Regina. They had all had too much to drink. When Regina said that she had paid her assistant to work extra hours and drive them home in the large van that she had rented, everyone pregamed in the van once they crossed the border. He could remember rolling his eyes when Regina had told them that they were traveling up in a rental van that night, but he couldn’t wait. He could remember pushing Graham out of the way to get to Emma’s side, not wanting anyone else to get all her attention. He remembered glass after glass of rum, even though Ruby was giving him a hard time about it being a vineyard. His hands, having developed a mind of their own, found Emma’s hair while they were sitting in a booth away from the crowd. As the night wore on, he got closer and closer to her, flirting a little bit more with each inch. Yet, she never reciprocated. She remained aloof. She was sweet and caring, but never crossed the line Killian was hoping she would. Her hands never traveled to him. They stayed firmly on her lap. The words that she whispered to him as he laid his head on her shoulder too tired to keep his eyes open as the van drove silently down the highway.

“_You’re my best friend, I can’t”._

He had been placed in the friendzone – and he didn’t see himself ever leaving it. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear those words or not, but the weight they carried finalized everything.

While that thought weighed heavy on his mind, he also knew that just having her in his life was better than nothing. If all she wanted from him was a friendship, then he was willing to be that for her. All he really wanted was for her to be in his life forever, for her to cast her glow upon his life for eternity. So even if she never loved him the way he loved her, he was OK with that.

And he did. He loved Emma Swan as deeply as one could love. Everything he did, he did with her in mind. He took the job at Liam’s company simply because he knew he would be able to afford to give Emma the life she deserved, even if it meant sacrificing what he loved to do, which was sail. There was no real job market in sailing, but Liam’s investment company made money and provided Killian with a safety net he knew Emma would need one day. He begged Liam to open a branch of the firm in Seattle, not wanting to be too far from his second family. He even purchased the apartment in hopes that one day he would share it with Emma. It was only a 10-minute walk to her job, and Killian abused that knowledge at times, randomly bumping into her on her lunch break or seeing her as she walked into the precinct in the mornings.

He popped the two pills and drank some water. It was nearing midnight and he was too tired to eat, even though the leftovers from dinner the night before were calling to him. He sat on his bed, his hands playing with his phone. He missed Emma, and the group. He missed their antics. They always ended up getting into trouble, even if they didn’t mean to. He wanted nothing more to just call Emma and talk to her. She always picked the best bars and he wanted to hear about everything that happened. His apartment was just too quiet.

He flipped the phone in his hands a few more times, then opened the screen and clicked on Emma’s name. He knew she would probably be asleep, but he just wanted to hear her voice, even if it was for only a few minutes. They hadn’t spoken at length since that night in Canada. Just a few casual conversations when they saw each other at last week’s bar hop. Graham hadn’t left Killian and David alone that night – there was a big game on that kept their attention on the screens.

The time that passed felt endless. The ringing of Emma’s phone kept his brain alert, while sending his body into shock at the same time. The nerves pulsing through his system would have been enough to kill just about anyone. After 4 rings, he didn’t think she would pick up and his heart sank. The feelings that washed over him were worse than the nerves that had been replaced. While he knew she probably wouldn’t answer, he got his hopes up again. Her voice came through the phone causing a slight smile to develop on his face. But, it was only her voicemail, telling the caller to leave her a message or to text her like a normal human.

“Hello Love, I was just calling to see how the night went. I missed you all, but Liam was insistent that I finish the presentation. Call me when you get a minute, or you know, text me. Either one. You know that I worry you didn’t make it home ok,” he said with a laugh, referencing his weird motherly concern, as Ruby called it, “I haven’t talked to you in a while and I just wanted to catch up. Well… have a good night Swan and hopefully I will talk to you soon”.

He hung up with a sigh.

He threw himself rather dramatically onto the bed. His arm came to wrap around his head, sheltering his eyes from the beaming light on his ceiling.

Just as his thoughts started to drift towards the deep end, where he would wallow in self pity thinking that he ruined his friendship with Emma that fateful weekend, his phone rang in his hands.

She appeared on the screen, all bright and beautiful. It was a picture Killian had taken of her one weekend the group traveled down to San Diego. She was sitting on the beach, the ocean sparkling in the background. The strings of her bikini poking out from her red coverup. The large straw hat she wore to block out the sun bent back. Her smile was contagious, as she had just finished laughing at something Mary Margaret had said. He cursed himself for ever making that picture her caller ID. He wanted to stare at it more than talk to her.

He forced himself to answer the call.

“Good evening Love,” he started, waiting to hear her angelic voice answer him back.

He could hear mumbling, but no one spoke directly to him. There was laughter in the background.

“Emma,” he said, a bit louder than normal.

Still, no one answered. There was some scratching on the phone, and then things came in a bit clearer.

Ruby’s unique laughter came through the phone. He could hear Mary Margaret shushing everyone else. Regina’s voice then came in. He was able to hear the words out of her mouth, but something was muffling the noise.

“Come on Emma, Truth or Dare?” Regina said.

He could hear more giggling, then the woman he loved said “Truth”.

It finally dawned on him that Emma must have butt dialed him. Emma’s iPhone had been known to do that a few times. It was so old, and she refused to upgrade it even though her plan allowed her to. Yet, Emma kept the beat-up thing that took nothing more than any piece of fabric touching it to unlock it. A few times, she had accidently dialed her Captain when she was putting her phone in her pocket. He laughed to himself before yelling her name one last time.

“Emma” he screamed into the phone.

No reply.

As he moved the phone away from his face, about to hang up the call, he heard something that had him pulling the phone back towards his ear.

“Alright, tell us how you really feel about Killian,” Regina

He felt wrong to listen, but something in him needed to know what Emma felt.

There was a round of laughter as the girls were probably getting settled to hear Emma’s confession. He could imagine them. Regina was probably sitting in a chair, her icy eyes focused on Emma. Mary Margaret was probably on the floor, trying to contain her excitement. Ruby was probably lying down, taking up the whole couch of whoever’s apartment they were at. It was Emma that he had troubles imagining.

Was she smiling as Regina asked the question? Did her heart start to skip at beat at the mention of his name, the way it did for him? Were her cheeks flushed because of thoughts of him?

“Killian’s my best friend,” Emma said, muffled by her pocket. He could hear a smile in her voice.

“Come on Swan, there is more to that – tell us how you really feel about Killian,” Regina said, this time a bit more forceful than before.

He heard a sigh and he felt his heart completely stop; the breath caught in his chest.

“Oh, fuck it,” she started, her voice coming in a bit clearer, “I love the man. OK! I love him. I’ve loved him for years.”

He almost dropped the phone. Everything that was happening suddenly stopped – time stood still. Emma Swan loved him. The woman he loved, that he would go to the ends of time and space for loved him back. He heard the words straight from her mouth. Yet, the words didn’t sound exciting and promising. They sounded sad. It was if a knife was slowly cutting out his heart. She loved him, but clearly that love wasn’t enough.

“But I’m scared OK. I’m scared of what loving him might mean,” she concluded.

“What do you mean?” Ruby asked.

“Remember when we all went to that bar Regina found a few weeks ago,” she paused, probably waiting for her friends to nod their understanding, “Killian was being just so… Killian. He was the perfect gentleman and the whole night, I just imagined what being with him would be like. We aren’t even dating, but he was constantly touching me, throwing attention my way. What would that be like if we were actually together? Then, in the van, he put his head on my shoulder, and suddenly, my feelings smacked me right in the face. And then I got scared. He is my best friend – what would happen if I lose him? What would happen if I lose our friendship? I couldn’t live with that. The last few weeks, with us barley talking because I got scared of my feelings, has been so rough. All I’ve wanted to do is talk to him, be near him; it’s been torture.”

Killian let a breath out. A thousand things were running through his mind. How could he be so blind to what Emma was going through? How could he get her to change her mind and be with him? He needed to make her see that no matter what, they would be OK. She needed to understand that he would never do anything to hurt her, that he would spend eternity making sure that what they used to have will always be there, as a strong foundation to what they were going to have.

“Oh Emma,” Mary Margaret’s soothing voice echoed in his ear, “You can never be sure what is going to happen, but you can’t live your life surrounded by fear. Fear is natural and serves a purpose, but you can’t let it control your happiness. Love, true love, the love that I know you have for Killian and he has for you, is worth the risk of anything that may happen.”

“You really think he loves me?” her voice was barely audible.

“Of course, he does!” he heard Ruby yell.

“The man isn’t the brightest, but he isn’t a dumbass, of course he loves you,” Regina quipped.

Killian rolled his eyes at the words, but she was right – he did love her.

“What should I do?” Emma questioned.

“You tell him, you tell him everything. Be honest with him. Tell him you are scared. Tell him you don’t want to lose his friendship. But start with telling him you love him,” Mary Margaret told him.

He could hear shuffling, movement of fabric over the phone. Then, everything got very clear.

“Oh shit,” he heard Emma whisper, her voice louder than it had been before.

Suddenly, her face appeared on his phone. She must have turned on her FaceTime app.

“Well hello there love,” he smiled, not hiding the cocky grin that was now splashed across his face.

“How much of that did you hear?” She asked, her cheeks reddening.

“Enough to tell you that I love you too,” he said.

Maybe the night was going to end on a good note.


	2. Incidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another little one shot that has taken me forever to write. As Emma's gotten older, holding her liquor has become harder and harder. This night, she remembered that Killian's lap is much more comfortable than a pillow.

There were only three times in Emma’s entire life that she got really drunk. The first time, she was a senior in high school and thought that it was the cool thing to do. It was one of the first parties of the year and she had never been invited to one before. She drank a bit too much and ended up wandering the host’s giant farm, alone with no shoes. Mary Margaret found her and saved Emma from walking into to cow pasture. She developed a lifelong friendship with her that night – and how could you not after someone saves you from walking into cow poop?

The second time was after Henry was born, almost two years after the cow poo incident, as her best friend so lovingly called it. David had offered to watch the newborn, so that Emma could have some girl time and recharge. So, Mary Margaret treated them to a day at the spa, bottomless mimosas included. She hadn’t planned on getting drunk. Yet, after two glasses, Emma passed out during her facial and woke up as she was being put to bed by David. Pregnancy really does change your tolerance to alcohol.

Since that adventure, Emma had promised herself she would never let herself drink in excess again. Sure, nothing embarrassing ever happened, no one took advantage of her, and she gained an amazing group of friends because of that first time; but she didn’t enjoy having to rely on people. She would rather just have one beer with friends, then spend the rest of the night laughing at other people’s antics than forgetting her own.

So, she hadn’t planned on having more than one glass of rum with the group when they went out. Yet something stirred in her, making her order just one more glass, then another. It was the third time she ever let alcohol get the best of her.

It was girl’s night. A monthly tradition that started not long after Emma’s Facial Incident – as Mary Margaret called it, even though Emma begged her to come up with a less sexual name. It had started as just the two of them, but as they grew up, graduating college, getting jobs, making new friends – the group grew.

First, Belle came along. She was the librarian at the library around the corner from Emma’s home. Henry had taken an immediate liking to her, and so did Emma. Then, came Ruby, Emma’s office mate. Ruby was eccentric and looked nothing like the clean-cut Belle and Mary Margaret– but she loved them, and they loved her. Soon, Ruby’s girlfriend, Dorothy came along. Dorothy always came with fresh pastries, from her grandmother’s bakery, so there was no question that if Ruby and Dorothy ever split up, that Dorothy could never leave the group.

As Emma’s group of girlfriends grew, so did her extended circle. David was the first addition. He met Mary Margaret their first year in college, and the two were inseparable. They got married at the end of Freshman year, wanting David’s ailing mother to witness the wedding. Belle brought her boyfriend Liam, whom she met studying abroad in Ireland. And along with Liam came his younger brother, Killian.

Killian Jones was the best addition to their group, according to Emma’s most private and inner thoughts.

Henry had just turned 4 when they all met. Emma’s world was finally beginning to slow down and be what she wanted it to be. She was so thankful for all the help she had gotten when she found out she was pregnant and through everything that had happened since; but she was finally starting to be the mother and person she wanted to be without anyone’s help. She had just gotten her dream job which also offered to pay for her graduate degree. She had found an amazing apartment that had space for Henry to grow.

So, when Killian walked into the bar that night, it was like the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

For the past four years, Emma flirted and flirted, yet nothing came of it. It seemed to be that Killian was completely immune to her feminine wiles.

Even though love didn’t bloom, she did gain a new best friend.

They had a lot in common. Both were tainted by childhood trauma, but rebounded in their late teens, thanks to friends and family circumstances changing. They both loved sports and preferred to spend a Sunday watching football over hiking around the city in search of the best brunch – which Mary Margaret always tried to drag them too. Killian had a love of sailing and adventure books, which influenced Henry much to Emma’s chagrin. Killian complemented her nicely. He was the perfect addition to her little family.

But there was still no romantic love there and it was pissing her off. They were perfect together – so why couldn’t he just see that?

Emma had never really had a conversation about it with him. While she had grown since she was a child, she still had walls. She kept things from her friends. She knew it was stupid – but she didn’t want to burden anyone or worse, lose someone because of what she was feeling. There were enough Rom-Com movies on her “watch again” list on Netflix to tell her that if she just talked to Killian, that maybe there could be something there. But she kept the walls up – but the Girl’s Night was about to bring the walls crumbling down.

Again, she hadn’t been planning on drinking more than one glass of rum. However, she motioned for the bartender when Belle began to talk wedding details. It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited for her friend – she was – they had been on the marriage path for a while but listening to Belle talk about finally getting her happily ever after bummed her out. She didn’t have that same feeling when Mary Margaret and David got married, but she also didn’t have Killian in her life then.

Seeing Belle marry a Jones brother was going to be torture, especially since Belle’s announcement that Emma was going to serve as Maid of Honor, opposite to Killian’s Best Man.

One more glass soon became two, which was quickly followed by three and four.

Thankfully, Emma’s tolerance for alcohol had built back up since her day at the spa. She felt warm and happy. Her checks were flushed and her fingers tingly. Everything was funny or cute and she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. It didn’t help that Mary Margaret kept gushing about something romantic and sweet that David did the other day, just because he loved her.

Emma wanted that love. She had spent enough time hiding in the shadows because of stupid walls that didn’t really help her anyways. There was something between Emma and Killian, she knew it deep in her bones.

She swiveled on the bar stool, almost falling off in her hurry.

“Where are you going?” Dorothy said, grabbing Emma by the elbow, steadying her.

“I’m heading home, I’m tired and want to lay down,” she lied.

Dorothy eyed her carefully. After what felt like eternity, her friend nodded.

“OK, do you need a ride or someone to walk with?” she asked, turning around towards Ruby, the night’s designated driver.

“No, I’m just going to catch an Uber. I’ll text everyone when I get home.”

Emma leaned forward, trying to not lose her balance, and gave Dorothy a half hug.

She waived to the rest of the group and pulled up her Uber App and requested her ride. The app showed her that she didn’t even half to wait, there was a car parked right outside. She swung on her signature red leather jacket and opened the door of the Prius, almost losing her balance again.

“Where to?”

“Storybrooke Apartments please,” she requested, leaning back against the seat.

Her eyes closed and sighed, it felt good to lean back and just relax. As the driver moved them along the streets, Emma’s thoughts drifted back to Killian. Everything felt right about him. He was a good man, kind and caring. He loved Henry as if he was his own. Emma never had to worry about anything when Killian was around. He carried her burdens for her. He was always the first person she called when something went wrong and she couldn’t fix it. Whenever she had a bad day at work, he was her first call. Any time she needed anything; Killian Jones was the first call. Hell, he was both her and Henry’s emergency contact.

His brilliant blue eyes floated around in her brain. He knew her better than anyone else. She also thought she knew him better too. She knew that his favorite breakfast was waffles; that no matter how hung over or sick he was, if Emma and Henry were anywhere near him on a Sunday morning, they would all binge on waffles, bacon and hash browns. He knew how worried she was about being a good mom, especially since she had Henry so young and she was raising him on her own. He always made sure that Emma knew how good she was doing with Henry; but he also made sure she took time for herself. He loved Henry like he was his own too. Henry had always had people who loved him, but his bond with Killian was different than his bond with everyone else. Sure, Henry loved David, but he never accidentally called David dad. Emma smiled as that memory played in her thoughts. Killian’s ears turned bright red when Henry didn’t correct a friend who asked if Killian was his father. Emma was still surprised that she didn’t melt with embarrassment at Henry’s oversight, or at Killian’s obvious like of the situation.

“Ma’am, we’re here,” the drive called, his voice sounding far away.

Emma whispered a thanks as she climbed out.

Killian’s apartment was near hers, so her friends would believe that she was home already; so she sent off a text to the group to let them know she arrived safe – knowing all to well that if she didn’t they would be calling the cops.

Emma pressed her code into the panel near the door, surprised that she could remember it. Killian had given her the code a week after they met, saying that she was welcome to stop by whenever. The latch on the door released and Emma swung it open so fast, that the door flew into her shins, scraping the skin that was exposed by the holes in her jeans. It was such a small scrape, but it didn’t stop the blood from beginning to pool.

Throwing her hand down on her knee, she hobbled over to the elevator and pressed the button sending her up to his floor. She laughed at herself. Here she was, in a building that wasn’t hers, drunk, hobbled over holding a scrape, trying to walk with grace to Killian’s door at the far end of the hallway. Whoever was watching the security cameras was probably dying of laughter. Her hair was crazy from being worn down for their girl’s night. She hoped that no one came out to notice her.

Her hand reached up to knock on his door, as she took a deep breath. At least the scrape stopped her from talking herself out of or worrying about what she was here to do. She leaned her head against the door, while she slowly lifted her hand from her scrape to see how bad it was. Quickly the door swung open and Emma was falling. As she hit the ground, laughter erupted from her mouth.

“Emma, what the hell?” Killian said, bending down to help her back up off the floor.

“Are you bleeding? Did you hit your head?” he questioned, not giving her a moment to answer his first question.

“I hit myself on the door,” she hiccuped, holding up her bloodied hand and using the other hand to grasp his forearm as he moved her.

“I can see that love,” he laughed out, “sit down here and I will get the first aid kit, see if you can get a clear view of the wound.”

She saluted him as he walked from the room. She giggled to herself, she was cute. Her confidence was rising. She looked down at her pants, and couldn’t see how he was going to patch her up through the slits in her knees; so, she did the only thing she could think of.

When Killian came back in from the bathroom, Emma was sitting on his couch in nothing but her tee shirt and panties. If she hadn’t been so drunk, she would have heard the sharp intake of breath that Killian took when he saw her. She wasn’t looking at him either, or she would have seen his eyes darken with desire.

If she hadn’t been drunk or looking at the clicker she was holding, she would have seen what she had been hoping for all along.

“Alright Swan be a good patient and put you leg up here so I can clean the wound,” he ordered.

He sat down next to her and patted his lap.

Instead of her legs, her head ended up on his lap. She sighed, taking in every feeling as she closed her eyes and settled. The softness of the cotton PJ pants that she had gotten him the Christmas before was as welcoming as any pillowcase.

“Emma, what are you doing?” he whispered, his voice holding something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“Proving that you are much more comfortable than a pillow,” she said, a smile forming on her lips.

She was thinking that on the way over, remembering another memory of where the entire group took a road trip cross country and Emma fell asleep on Killian’s shoulder, while he was holding Henry’s hand as her son slept in his car seat. It was one of the best sleeps she had ever gotten, which is saying something considering she spent one of her first big paychecks on a top of the line mattress. Then again, she was also the mother of a toddler.

“I highly doubt I am more comfortable than a pillow love,” he countered, his hand coming down to stroke her hair.

The smile on her face grew. She stayed quite for a minute.

“Well, you are, and I’m always right,” she giggled.

“That you are love,” he said, his hand still stroking her hair, rubbing little circles on her scalp every few motions.

They sat like that for a while. Her breathing never slowed, as she was too excited. Killian’s scent wafted around her. She turned her head, so she wasn’t looking straight up to the ceiling, so that she could nuzzle into his shirt. She barley got a whiff when she felt something rise beneath her and she was being pushed off his lap. His strong hands came to grasp her shoulders, turning her towards him, forcing her eyes open to meet his.

“What are you doing Emma?” His voice was soft. His eyes sparkled and searched hers for answers.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” she said, fully turning towards him.

Before he could ask any other questions, before she could talk herself out of what she was going to do, before either of them could do anything else; she was pulling him towards her, smashing her lips to his.

As if her lips on his were second nature, he pulled her against him and deepened the kiss. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. They kissed for what seemed like hours. Her hands explored him, his shoulders and back. The kiss was passionate and sensual, but also soft and loving. Emma’s heart pumped faster than ever before. She was pretty sure that at any moment it would stop. She was also pretty sure that if Killian’s hands weren’t holding her to him, she would have floated away in pure bliss. Her head, which was already a bit fuzzy, was now completed clouded by Killian.

The kiss was everything she had ever dreamt about – and she had dreamt about it a lot. It wasn’t just a kiss for her either. It was a promise of something more. She could tell, just one kiss from Killian would never be enough, would never be the last. He hadn’t said anything, but there was something in the way he held her that told her she would never go another day without him kissing her.

He pulled back from the kiss, putting a pout on Emma’s lips. His forehead rested on hers, as they both caught their breath, eyes closed, trying to keep that feeling as long as they could. Her hand rested on his chest, right above his quickly beating heart. She sighed as she felt it, wanting to lean down and nuzzle against it. She wanted to stay there forever, next to him, surrounded by him.

“Emma,” he whispered, breathing her in.

“Hmmm,” was all that she could respond.

“That was…” he trailed off, as he opened his eyes to get a good look at her.

“Definitely not a one-time thing,” she said, a bit forcefully. She wasn’t going to let him slip through her fingers. She had waited long enough for him and she wasn’t going to miss out on another minute.

A smile grew across his face, his eyes darkened.

“Definitely, however, I don’t think we should do it again until you are one, bandaged up and not bleeding, and two, not drunk,” he said, always the gentleman.

Emma peered down at her leg, which somehow ended up over his. The bleeding looked to have stopped, but her jeans were going to need a good soak in seltzer water and lemon. The superficial wound would forever be her favorite, because it led her to here. Or at least, it led her to Killian’s lap.

“I’m not that drunk,” she countered.

“Love, it doesn’t matter. What matters, is that I want to make sure you don’t regret this in the morning. I’ve waited a long time for you to do that, and I don’t want it to be just because you were drunk,” he replied, a bit of hurt in his eyes.

“Being drunk gave me to courage to finally tell you how I feel, how I’ve felt since that first week. How you never noticed that I was in love with you, I will never understand. I’ve waited for years for you to make a move, to show me that you felt the same,” she confessed, all the walls she had came crumbling down.

“You love me?” he asked, searching her eyes for the answer, scared that what she was saying wouldn’t still ring true in the morning.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank God,” he said, pulling her to him, burying her head against his chest, his hands tightening around her, refusing to let her go.

He reached one hand around to her face, pulling her chin up so that she was looking at him.

“I love you too,” leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Great, now Mary Margaret is going to call this the “I Love You Incident”,” she laughed, as she leaned her head back into his chest, feeling him laugh right along with her.

As far as names went, it was the best one out there and the best incident to ever happen.


End file.
